


How To React When Your Alpha Gives You an Unconscious Kanima

by orphan_account



Series: The Hatchback Epic [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Bad Decisions, Gen, Kanima Hunting, Magic, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Occult, Pack Dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-26
Updated: 2015-09-26
Packaged: 2018-04-22 18:24:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4845728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Also known as: if they know he's the Kanima, why didn't they deal with it themselves instead of bringing him back like some weird courting present for Stiles?</p>
            </blockquote>





	How To React When Your Alpha Gives You an Unconscious Kanima

Derek and his Kanima-hunting posse made it back to the Lair before Scott did. They had an unconscious Jackson Whittemore trussed up with duct tape, rope, and what looked like a black plastic garbage bag. Derek dropped him at Stiles’s feet without a word. He didn’t know what to say. _Thanks for bringing me back a Kanima, I asked you to get groceries_? Fuck that, it made it sound like they were married.

Stiles shook his head, and blearily looked at the Alpha, “What happened?”

“He began to change. We got him before he could,” Derek said shortly, looking back at the spot where the spell had been. While they were waiting, Stiles and Isaac had dismantled it, leaving only a couple spots of wax on the already greasy floor.

“Scott is coming,” Isaac to him, staring down at Jackson with a mix of revulsion and anger. “Why did you bring him here?”

“It’s safer. Why is Scott coming?”

“Dunno,” Stiles replied, sticking the folded map of Beacon Hills in his jacket pocket. “He hung up before I could ask. What are we going to do with him?”

They all stood in silence for several moments, looking down at Jackson with various degrees of uncertainty and distaste on their faces. The silence dissipated when Derek glanced up. “Scott’s here,” he said. As if in reply to that statement, the side door eased open, and Scott peeked through.

“Why is Jackson wrapped up and on the floor?” Scott asked, his voice so precious and innocent. Stiles would have laughed if that wasn’t a legitimate question.

“He’s the Kanima,” Derek said. “Why are you here, Scott.”

“I, um,” he turned to Stiles, anxiety plain on his face, “Gerard Argent is under police custody.”

“ _What_?” Derek, Stiles, and Erica yelled at the same time. A loud grumble came from the vicinity of the car, and Stiles shushed everyone like the giant hypocrite he was.

“Explain,” Derek growled, though there was something deviously happy happening to his face.

Scott tucked his hands into his sweatshirt pocket and said, “Last night, after the game and everything, when I was picking my mom up from work, he was at the hospital. He,” Scott shuddered slightly, “he stabbed me and said that if I didn’t help him he would hurt my mom.”

“So you went to the police?” Isaac asked, looking proud of him. Stiles definitely shared the feeling.

“Yeah, there was another nurse who heard it. And my mom walked in on him while he still had the knife out,” Scott rubbed his stomach. “Sh-she knows I’m a werewolf now.”

Erica came up with the most succinct summation of the day’s events thus far, “Well, shit.”

“Well, with Gerard out of the way the Argent’s aren’t as big of a threat, right?” Isaac asked. “I mean, Allison’s still…sort of…on our side, and her dad seems like he’s been unsure of this whole thing.”

“I don’t know,” Scott replied, “I haven’t talked to Allison yet. I was going to call her.”

“Do it soon,” said Derek. He was still scowling down at the unconscious form of Jackson. “We need to deal with him.”

Scott nodded and slipped back out the side door, his phone already in his hand. Stiles wanted to go after him, just because the past couple days had sucked ass. And despite having super healing powers, getting stabbed must’ve been traumatic as hell. He watched Scott go out, then turned back to the rest of the pack.

“So, the file-thing mentioned that Kanima have a master type thing? Someone who controls them?” Stiles asked Derek. He nodded. “But if we get Jackson to deal with whatever in his past is messing his change up, then we won’t know who his master is.”

“But then we won’t have to deal with scaly Whittemore climbing the walls and trying to kill us,” Erica reminded him, shuffling forward to poke the comatose boy with one clawed finger. “It’s not like there’s any other Kanimas in Beacon Hills that whoever it is can take control of.”

“I suppose that is a plus,” Stiles said.

Derek sighed and looked around at his pack of teenagers, “First, we get him to face his past.”

“Don’t you mean, first we need to figure out his past?” Boyd scratched his head.

“Shit, Derek, this is really confusing!” Erica whined.

“I know! We can ask the master! How long has it been since we got here?” Stiles turned to Derek, who just stared back at him. “You’re useless. If she kills me, I blame you.” He cautiously walked to the Oldsmobile, intensely aware of the rest of the pack staring at him. Building up his courage, he rapped on the back window.

The hatchback flew open, nearly braining him, and Bellatrix’s head shot out, “I’m awake, I swear! Fuck, what time is it?”

Stiles eventually got his heartrate back under control and replied, “Three-ish, I think?”

She groaned and pushed her hair back from her face. Somewhere during the two hours she had been sleeping, her sweater had disappeared, which enlightened Stiles to the fact that, not only did she have one gun, she had two. And a knife strapped to her back. He felt his respect for her rise, but his terror did, too. Bellatrix climbed out of the car and closed the door, yawning. “What’s up, Stilinski? My location spell work?”

“Yeah, uh, about that,” he started, and pointed over to where the pack was still staring at them. Bellatrix narrowed her eyes.

“Is that—why the fuck did y’all wrap him in a fucking trash bag?” she rubbed her eyes and gave Derek an incredulous look. “It is him, though, did it work?”

“Yes, it did,” Derek answered.

“Wait, who is this?” Erica bounced over to Stiles and Bellatrix, peering down at the older girl.

“Hi, I’m Bellatrix!” she grabbed Erica’s hand and shook it vigorously. “I’m many things. Including punk rock. And a witch, I guess. I designed the spell you guys used to find our lizard friend. I’m glad it was actually successful.”

“Yeah, now we need some help,” Stiles interrupted. “We found him, but we don’t know how to find out what is messing up his transformation, and how to fix it, please tell me you can help.”

She stared at him, then turned to Jackson, then turned back. “The fuck, Stilinski! I’m not fucking wizard Jesus. I’ve never met this kid before in my life. I dunno what could’ve happened in his past. Ask someone who knows him,” muttering to herself, Bellatrix returned to her car, and began rustling through papers.

“Someone who knows him? We all _know_ him,” Isaac said, looking repulsed by that statement.

“Lydia,” Stiles said. He turned back to the pack, mind working, “She’s known Jackson as long as the rest of us, but they’ve been dating, like, forever. Lydia would know him better than the rest of us.” He hated that that thought made his stomach sting. Lydia had always been unattainable for him, and he knew that, but it was just so hard to let go of her.

“Erica, Boyd,” Derek growled again. “Find her and bring her here.”

They shared a look, and left out the back for Erica’s truck. Scott slipped back in.

“Allison wants to talk. Her father does, too,” Scott had a look on his face like he was going to barf or pass out. “I told her I would call back later.”

“Right,” Derek said, still glaring down at Jackson’s prone form. “I will go with you.”

Scott’s face turned from vaguely sick to stressed, “Okay. What are we doing with Jackson?”

“Boyd and Erica are finding Lydia Martin. She will be able to help us,” Derek replied.

Scott gave Stiles a look, and he just knew. He got that little wrinkle on his nose like he did when something was wrong and he was worried. Stiles moved over and crowded him, and Scott linked his hands around his waist, pressed his face against Stiles’s neck. Derek ignored their display, merely twitching angrily. Isaac seemed nonplussed. His eyes flickered from his Alpha to the other two boys, utterly confused. They ignored him and snuggled for several minutes.

“Thanks,” Scott said, finally drawing away. He had problems with stress—and had had those problems for years—but with Stiles along with his mom as his anchor, it was easier to deal with it.

“Yeah,” Stiles gave him a lopsided smile. The contact was for both of their benefit.

A guttural growl made the four of them and Bellatrix freeze. Jackson, though thoroughly wrapped in a myriad of useless bindings, was beginning to change.

Everything after that happened very fast, and also very slow.

Isaac and Derek leapt forward as one, but they were too slow. Bellatrix was running forward, her eyes dark and a gun in one hand as Scott dragged Stiles back, away from what Jackson had become. The Kanima swiped, hunting by smell, scoring marks across Scott’s chest and Stiles’s arm. They kept pulling back, and Bellatrix shot twice, hitting each eye, before jumping back so Isaac and Derek could restrain him again.

Stiles didn’t really know anything after that, just that there was poison coursing through his body. Though he could feel his limbs growing cold and heavy, his mind whirled. They had learned about magical poisons two months before and he had never connected it to the Kanima before this. But, the cold coursing through his veins made the back of his neck itch like all other magic did, and Stiles did not ignore his insticts. His breath came fast as he gripped Scott, still not completely numb. Magical poisons had to be burned out of the body, or else left until they wore off.

“Derek,” he said, and the Alpha turned away from the Kanima, something unidentifiable on his face. Scott was too cold from the poison, and Stiles couldn’t very well steal his remaining heat to heal the both of them. Derek would be warm, a furnace. He stumbled toward him, dragging Scott’s dead weight, holding out a hand.

Derek reached out with the one hand that wasn’t around the Kanima’s throat, captured Stiles in his heat, his dark, flashing eyes locked with Stiles’s. Saying a silent apology to the older man, Stiles tore Derek’s heat away from him, and let it burn.

Thankfully, Bellatrix did something to freeze Jackson, because Derek lost his grip on his throat. Stiles didn’t exactly notice. He was too busy trying not to have a panic attack as the heat he had taken burned through him, through Scott, then back through him and into Derek. Everything went dark.

When he came back to himself, there were two furnaces on either side of him. Stiles could tell, even with his eyes shut, that they were on the one ratty couch that Derek had in the first subway car. Who “they” was, though, he had no clue. He cracked his eyes open.

Scott was half-on, half-off his lap, curled up in a ball so tightly that Stiles couldn’t see his face, but his arms were wrapped around Stiles’s lap. On his other side, Derek was sprawled. One of his arms was around Stiles’s back, the other off the back of the couch. With just one look, it was obvious that Derek was unconscious.

“—no, I didn’t say that. For fuck’s sake,” Bellatrix’s voice filtered through the window, rough and annoyed. “Look, Lydia, whatever your name is, he’s your boyfriend. You know him best, you’ll be able to heal him. I’ve done everything else, all you need to do is touch his fucking forehead!”

“Uh, but—”

“I will not _stand_ for any more complaints, now fucking do it!”

There was the noise of stomping, two derisive snorts (presumably from Erica and Boyd), and some anxious muttering, courtesy of Isaac. For several moments, nothing happened. Stiles craned around, trying not to disrupt his best friend or his Alpha, but he couldn’t see anything through the small window. Well, the sun was still up, at least, which meant that he hopefully wouldn’t have to call his dad.

Hopefully being the key word, there.

Just as Stiles had begun considering how he could get out of shackling grasp of the two werewolves, someone outside the subway car cursed, and a brilliant blue light shone through the window. Derek shot up as though tased and let out a roar that was really too loud, considering he was still right next to a human.

The thing, though, was that an unfamiliar werewolf returned that roar.

**Author's Note:**

> touchy-feely is the best  
> (note my tumb has moved to @the-gloamglozer)


End file.
